Pokémon: Alexandrite
by Happy Chat Derp Person
Summary: Despair, loneliness, regret, and hate... It's everything this island called Alonias offers. It contains anarchy, filth, and dread. Yet, through it all, a trainer is trying to live. A story of loyalty, survival, and hope in the darkest hours... OC/Original Region story. R&R. Awesome beta ThatGirlOnMars.


This story is dedicated to my Big Bro Toad.  
Seriously, man, without you, this thing wouldn't exist.  
Also, happy birthday! May adulthood treat you with lots of banana nut muffins.

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Regular text

"Speaking text"

_Thinking Text_

_'Mental Speaking Text'_

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Prologue  
The Silence of the Storms

_In the middle of the endless ocean lies a large island that's shrouded with mystery. Even the larger regions - Sinnoh and Unova, most importantly - do not know about the workings of the island. They are secluded from the other regions, even though Sinnoh and Unova, with help from Hoenn and Kalos, had repeatedly tried to send ambassadors, and even some petty news reporters. But, funny thing is, nobody ever returned, and nobody had received any messages from the missing._

_The island is called Alonias. To the east is Ilorugos City, which has the markets, the wealthy, aristocratic folks, and the folks who work for them. It is the place where all things considered inferior are filth. Filth was just left on the curb to die. Nobody would help their neighbor, but they would throw themselves at someone's feet if it meant they looked better than ever before._

_To the west is Shellpes. They have the black markets, the poor, homeless folks, and the gangs that protect them. The place is no better the Ilorugos City; the only difference is that Shellpes doesn't have the money. Sure, they have the factories that make those counterfeit diamond watches and the packages for their food, but the working conditions are horrible. Ilorugos citizens wouldn't even set foot in them, but the people of Shellpes would love to get their hands on their offices._

_At the northernmost and southernmost part of the island, there's nothing. Snow and ice are all that the north has, and barren sand deserts are all that the south has._

_Despite that, a number of Pokémon from all of the regions live there. The Pokémon live seemingly independent of humans. Trainers can be found, however, and there are sixteen gyms one could face. But that's it. No one knows what happened to the Elite Four, or the Champions. They've been missing for a year._

_Separating the two cities was a natural wall or protector called The Plateau of Warriors. There was an old Alonian legend that was hardly spoken of by the population anymore. It claimed that whoever stands at the center of the plateau will be blessed with the power to save the world. The power could, supposedly, stop natural disasters, manipulate magnetism, or even reverse the flow of life. The abilities have been altered so much by being passed from ear to ear; no one really quite knows this legend. It's mostly forgotten, anyway, so I guess we should just let dead dogs lie._

_But that didn't happened. That never happens. If the power existed, it could have so much potential. It would fix the mistakes he had made. It would take away the guilt. A man heard this legend, and it lead him down a path. A dark, dark path . . . ._

"Do you think we'll get to see her again?" his son inquired. They were at the base of the moment, just outside the city limits of Shellpes. Aeron and his son, Dante, where looking for someone who was once lost, and never had been found. Everyone thought she was dead, but they didn't know her. They didn't know her like they did. Everyone else wasn't family.

Aeron looked back at the city. It was night, the perfect time for crime. The buildings' outlines stood tall, and the neon lights of the factories shone, twinkled, and disappeared like stars. No one could actually see the celestial bodies because of the smog. Shellpes had its own kind of beauty that night, the only kind of beauty man could make.

Aeron turned back to his son. "I made a promise with your mother that I would keep the both of you safe," he said, "just as you promised her you would keep Tempest safe, but we failed." He pointed to the top of the plateau, which was actually quite steep. A fierce wind blew, but Aeron had his feet planted firmly on the ground. He wasn't going anywhere until Dante understood. "Dante, don't you see? This is how we can find her. We can bring Dorothy back, too. You need to open your eyes and see! This could bring the family back together. We can be whole again."

Dante looked at his father. He wasn't a tall man, but he wasn't exactly short, either. He had defined muscles, but the jacket he had on hid them. He had pale blonde hair that was just a shade away from being white. His eyes where a silvery grey and his most identifying feature was the scar that curved over his left cheek. This is his father.

"Father, if we find Tempest, and if we become whole again, it will just happen again," Dante told him, "This needs to stop. I will find Tempest, and I will revive Dorothy, but what I do after that, I need your help."

He explained his plan.

Aeron was silent. "Trust me, Father. This will work," Dante assured, "Now, farewell." He and his father hugged. Aeron pulled something out of his pocket.

He pulled away. "Dante, I want you to have this," he said, putting the Holo Caster in his hands. "It's programmed to signal you when it's been 51 weeks and again when it's been a year. You'll know it when you hear it, and if you ever get in trouble, use it to call for help."

"Father!" he gasped. "Where did you get this?" Holding the rare piece of technology in his hands, Dante tried to turn it on. The screen, however, stayed black. He looked up at Aeron, a puzzled look on his face.

"It has some faulty circuitry," he admitted sheepishly, "but it will work." Dante nodded.

"I believe you," Dante replied, the confidence for his father clear in his voice. He pulled the strap connected to the Holo Caster over his head. Dante's brown eyes met with his father's familiar silver ones for one last time.

He turned around and entered The Plateau of Warriors with the hope of finding his sister, Tempest.

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She was laying there, resting in a deep, deep sleep. He watched as the Pokémon did their jobs. He rarely visited her, in the fear that someone would follow them. She was floating in the water of a shallow pool with rose petals swirling around her. Several Pokémon kept the water warm, while others checked her health. She wasn't going to die on his hands. He wouldn't dare it.

But, still, he dared to do many things. He was the real man of shadows that could take the risks to do anything. He and his Greninja were five-star, and they often hid in the darkness.

The Pokémon there didn't realize she was there, or else they would've rejoiced and celebrated, leaving her side for a second. Of course, somehow, her beauty and grace were always being observed. The man of shadows may have dared, but he didn't take risks on those that he cared about. She may not know that he cared, or even who he was, but he did. He was the man of shadows and he cared.

_Don't worry,_ he thought. _You're safe. No one will be able to find you. Why, you're hidden in the darkness, of course._

The man of shadows was many things: daring, risky, and stealthy, but his eye for detail was obsolete. He often overlooked the small, trivial things.

Like a brother's love.

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AN: Please review!


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